(From the German of Uhland)At morn the Count of Greiers before his castle stands;He sees afar the glory that lights the mountain lands;The horned crags are shining, and in the shade betweenA pleasant Alpine valley lies beautifully green."Oh, greenest of the valleys, how shall I come to thee!Thy herdsmen and thy maidens, how happy must they be!I have gazed upon thee coldly, all lovely as thou art,But the wish to walk thy pastures now stirs my inmost heart."He hears a sound of timbrels, and suddenly appearA troop of ruddy damsels and herdsmen drawing near;They reach the castle greensward, and gayly dance

(from The Portuguese Of Semedo)&nbsp;It is a fearful night; a feeble glare Streams from the sick moon in the o'erclouded sky; The ridgy billows, with a mighty cry,Rush on the foamy beaches wild and bare;No bark the madness of the waves will dare; The sailors sleep; the winds are loud and high; Ah, peerless Laura! for whose love I die,Who gazes on thy smiles while I despair? As thus, in bitterness of heart, I cried,I turned, and saw my Laura, kind and bright, A messenger of gladness, at my side:To my poor bark she sprang with footstep light, And as we